Somewhat Less than a Fortnight
by Random Guise
Summary: Countless millions who celebrate Christmas know the song "The 12 Days of Christmas"; non-humans might not be aware of it, including a pair of Minbari. A series of connected scenes to play out over 12 (13 now) days; think of it as a subplot to a normal episode. I don't own these characters, but I have at least a dozen demented recordings of the song. All 13 days up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: An imagined Christmas subplot as a series of short scenes taking place toward the end of the first season of Babylon 5.**

* * *

Somewhat Less than a Fortnight

"Ambassador Delenn, this is a reminder you will have a package aboard the shuttle arriving in thirty minutes" the audio only announcement came over the monitor.

"Thank you." she acknowledged from her seat "arrange to have it delivered to my quarters please." She reached over and picked up the note she had received a few days previously and read it again.

 _Ambassador Delenn, I have done as you wished and spent the allocated funds for cultural exchange before the deadline set by the counsel. As you know, the deadline was fast approaching so I searched for an appropriate occasion to observe near the end of the year based on the commander's home world. It will involve observance over many days, but I hope it will bring greater understanding between all the peoples on Babylon 5. Unfortunately the items I am sending will arrive somewhat early and I regret that I will not be there personally, but I will return in three weeks and you can brief me on their reception. In peace, Lennier of the Third Fane of Chimodo._

Delenn folded the note again. Although a novitiate, her aide was quite capable and in the short time they had worked together she came to feel he was someone she could trust. She wondered what could be arriving, and although her curiosity was great she managed to busy herself with various tasks at her terminal until her door chimed.

"Enter."

The door opened and a large man stood with an electronic clipboard. "Ambassador Delenn?" he asked.

"I am."

"This arrived on the shuttle." He walked back out the door for a moment, then returned pulling low cart. On its flat surface lay a large pot, with a bare tree planted in the center.

"You brought me some sticks?"

"What, they don't have trees where you come from?" he asked.

"Our trees have leaves. Did these fall off?" she wondered out loud as she looked closer. There was a note attached which she retrieved and opened up.

 _Delenn, this item starts off the Earth holiday known as Christmas. The tree I have sent is a fruit tree, even though the tradition requires it to be given while it is currently in its dormant phase during the holiday. The porous wooden bowl you see in its branches is part of the tradition. The next item will arrive tomorrow, as they are traditionally timed to appear at 24 hour intervals. Yours in service, Lennier._

"So where do you want it, Ambassador?"

Delenn thought quickly; she didn't have space for it in her quarters, and it really should be shared where others could see and experience it. "I think I know a place in the observational gardens that would be perfect. Let me show you" she offered as she led the man outside and down the hall.

In a small open area within a group of hedges, Delenn indicated where the pot could be placed. With some effort the man slid the pot off of the lowered cart until it plopped on the soft ground. As he straightened his back with some visible effort, a smaller man hailed them from a short distance away. "George!" the new arrival yelled as he approached.

"What is it Frank?"

Frank held out a box. "This was supposed to go with the tree" he gasped as he tried to recover from his rush to catch up. While he and George discussed whether or not the two items belonged together, Delenn opened the box that had long slits in the side. With a rush of wind and a burst of noise, a bird flew out of the box and circled above for a moment before settling in the branches of the bare tree.

"If it wasn't yours before, it is now" George declared, and walked off with Frank.


	2. Chapter 2

"Honesty Ambassador, I don't know how it could have happened" George apologized as he and Delenn walked down the corridor the next day. "I'm sure the package was clearly marked, but somehow it was delivered to the Narn representative.

"As long as I get them back, I don't mind; these things happen" she said to the package handler as they neared the door where she proceeded to signal.

"Enter" the voice of G'Kar called from inside.

Delenn entered the quarters of the Narn ambassador. Two empty boxes lay just inside the door, and on his table appeared what she believed to be two small tortoises. At the same time, cooing could be heard from behind a divider to G'Kar's bedroom. She checked the label on the boxes and confirmed that both were hers. "G'Kar, I believe you have some things that belong to me."

G'Kar immediately stepped between the table and Delenn. "Perhaps they were intended for you, but fate has sent them my way. I cannot allow you to imprison my brothers any longer" as the vaguely reptilian ambassador said as he turned around and stroked the shell of one of the reptiles.

"Brothers?"

"Well, a distant familial relation perhaps. But I cannot bear to see them caged and used for who knows what purposes. If need be I will take the matter to Sinclair and the council myself. You can have this correspondence that came with the boxes, though" he added as he handed her a note which she took and read.

 _Delenn, I was unable to completely understand this portion of the ritual so I did the best I could with what was available. Enclosed please find two pigeons and two turtles. Yours in obedience, Lennier._

"And what about the birds, G'Kar? Are they distant relatives too?" she asked with more than a bit of annoyance.

"Of course not! I just like the sounds they make. It's rather...soothing, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know" she said as she turned and stormed out.


	3. Chapter 3

"Enter."

Na'Toth, diplomatic assistant to the Narn ambassador G'Kar entered Delenn's quarters holding a coiled metal object which she thrust out at arm's length toward the Minbari. "My apologies," she said curtly "but I...inadvertently opened a crate that belongs to you. Three of these were inside."

Delenn gingerly accepted the complicated apparatus and examined it. "What is it, and how did you come to have it?"

"It was a mistake. We received some information from an informant that it might possibly be a new weapon of some sort, so I opened the crate to ascertain its threat. It appears to be some device designed to produce a sonic attack" Na'Toth stated as she left and brought back two more. Setting one down, she took the other and placed her mouth on one end and blew into it while manipulating some keys or valves. A horrible sound emitted from the object, causing Delenn to drop her item and cover her ears. The sound changed pitch several times and trailed off as the Narn stopped and gasped for breath.

Delenn removed her hands from her ears. "That was horrible, but why would I have sonic weapons delivered to me?" she asked incredulously.

"Unknown. As a weapon it seems ineffective, so perhaps it is in an early testing phase. Since it doesn't harm Narns we'll turn them back over to you with the note that came with them." She handed over a note written in a hand in which Delenn was now getting quite familiar.

 _Delenn, my research indicated that this phase of the observance required giving the gift of something that translates 'Three French Horns' which are musical instruments. As you have no doubt observed, there is a numerical progression to the quantity of items in the observance, no doubt based on the Earth calendar. In pious observance, Lennier._

"They are Earth musical instruments" Delenn explained to Na'Toth as she placed the horn down carefully.

"Earth? That explains a lot" Na'Toth said flatly. "They must be from their ancient times when torture was more common." With that observance, she turned and left Delenn to ponder just how this could tie into a festive holiday.


	4. Chapter 4

"Another one of those messages coming in" Lt. JG David Corwin announced to the commanding officer of Babylon 5's C & C.

"How many so far?" Lt. Commander Tanner N. Baum asked his subordinate officer.

"That's the fifth in the last seven minutes" he responded quickly after reviewing his board. "I can't make heads or tails of it, but they seem to be coming from that small ship that came through the gate ten minutes ago."

"Run it through the computer; if it isn't a language maybe it's a code" Baum ordered.

"Roger." Corwin grabbed a set of headphones and listened to the messages while he fed them into the computer. The messages were all short, and had come at irregular intervals. He listened closely but was unable to detect any spoken words; however, he was experienced enough to know that communication came in many more forms that he was familiar.

He waited for the analysis to be complete, and was rewarded with a message informing him that it was no known language and showed no discernible pattern or algorithm. He relayed the information to his superior.

"It doesn't seem to be hostile, is it holding position?"

"Affirmative."

"Maybe it's waiting for us. Order a fighter out and let's haul it in for investigation, then report back to me."

"Shall I inform Lt. Commander Ivanova or Commander Sinclair?" Corwin asked.

"Negative, they need their rest. We can always alert them if there is a problem you can't handle."

"Me?"

...

"Thank you for coming, Ambassador" Corwin addressed Delenn as she entered the hanger area.

"I'm almost afraid to ask" Delenn answered "but what is it?"

"The nearest we could tell, it was a small drone carrying some livestock. Four birds were located inside, with full atmosphere and quite the setup for water and food. The oddest thing was that each chicken had a touch-sensitive pad set up in its cage that would initiate communication over a preset band and open a microphone located nearby. We've been getting messaged while the ship stood just outside the station entrance. We found this inside the ship" he said as he handed an envelope to the Minbari.

 _Delenn, once again the ritual requires the sending of avian species for observance of custom. There seemed to be no specific species required, as long as they were able to carry out a simple task for which I managed to train them quickly. Obedience is service, Lennier._

"What do you want to do with them?" Corwin asked.

"I'm wondering how well they would fit in a fruit tree without leaves" Delenn thought out loud.

"I aint cleanin' it up" George said as he walked past.


	5. Chapter 5

Dr. Steven Franklin sat down and looked over the medical facilities that he called home. It was quiet now, a rare occasion on the station. Usually a variety of illnesses, injuries and mysteries created a never ending parade of patients through his domain. A parade he was thankful for, even if it was causing him to lose more than a bit of sleep. But the challenge of his work gave him a thrill like no other, and he lived to treat and discover even if it cost him some rest. Even now he felt as though he should be doing something.

The doors opened and Franklin looked over, but no one appeared. Just before they closed Ambassador Delenn's head poked around the corner, looking to see who was inside the room. Reluctantly she entered the room and continued to look about before approaching the doctor.

"Ambassador, always a pleasure. What can I do for you?" he asked.

"Me? Nothing. In fact I don't know why I came by, I'm sure you're busy..."

"Not at all! This is the first time I've had a breather in days." He continued in a lowered voice "Quite frankly I was wondering if I was alone on the station, it's so quiet. Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?" Ambassadors didn't just drop by medlab without a reason, and Franklin was a little suspicious.

"It's nothing much, it can wait."

"I see. You'd rather come back where there are other people here" the doctor said with a grin; the next thing was usually a question being asked 'for a friend'.

"Perhaps you can help me. You're from Earth, so you know about this Christmas holiday."

"Of course. Try coming from Earth and _not_ knowing about it!"

"Yes, I understand. Well, I was given a gift that was probably supposed to be given to other people but I got curious and...well...had a problem."

Franklin waited, but Delenn hesitated. "Go on" he prodded.

"It's just that...I don't know how it happened...but it got stuck!" she exclaimed as she quickly held out her hand. On her right thumb was a band of gold that was worn between the knuckle and joint. Her finger was quite red to the point of becoming purple and appeared swollen much larger than the ring. "There were five rings, so I put one on each finger. The other four came off easily, but the fifth was a little tight and now I can't seem to remove it no matter how hard I try! Maybe they were supposed to go on my toes, but it's too late now."

Franklin examined the thumb. "It looks like you've really worked it over trying to get it off, and it became swollen as a result; no wonder you can't get it off."

"What can you do?"

"Well, we could administer an anti-inflammatory that might do the trick, but it will take some time before it might be effective."

"It hurts _now_!"

"I have tools that can cut it off; it won't harm you, but it will damage the ring" he warned her. "Your finger should recover shortly after, though."

"I don't care, I can't go around with a discolored thumb that hurts. Just do it quickly, please. I can cover it up afterward."


	6. Chapter 6

"Of course, we don't call them 'geese' on Centauri Prime but it doesn't matter; I know a sign when I see one!" Londo Mollari, ambassador of the Centauri Republic reassured Delenn as he stood in her quarters. Having arrived to discuss an entirely different matter with his Minbari colleague, it was forgotten the moment he entered her quarters. He almost gushed as he observed the six birds, two of which had already laid eggs on some nearby furniture.

"I call them a nuisance" Delenn said with no humor at all. "They're rather loud too, and one insists on following me around wherever I walk or sit."

"Nonsense, my dear Delenn. In our pantheon of gods they are revered as signs of fertility. And to see six at one time!" he exclaimed as he held his hand to his chest. "I never thought I would live to see the day." He crossed the room and reached down, picking up an egg as it lay on a chair.

"It's called an egg" Delenn explained, just in case the spheroids were unfamiliar to Londo.

"Indeed," Mollari agreed "it most certainly is. Of course on Centauri Prime the eggs have beautiful golden flecks that sparkle when held up to the light, but an egg is still an egg even with a mundane shell as the one this one exhibits. It's still a fascinating creation of nature and it represents the promise of new and continued life in the world and the galaxy." He picked up the second egg, examined it and then put one in each pocket of his coat. "Thank you for allowing me to see these wonderful creatures" he said magnanimously with a deep bow as he turned towards the door.

"Ambassador, you're not going to eat those eggs after that wonderful speech, are you?" Delenn asked.

"Oh yes" Mollari smiled. "We Centauri may be religious and superstitious to a fault, but we are a practical people" he said over his shoulder as he headed out the door. "Especially around meal time!" he called out from down the hall before the door closed.


	7. Chapter 7

"Where are the swans, Vir?" Delenn asked in a very forceful manner. The diplomatic assistant to Londo Mollari cowered in response.

"What swans, Ambassador?" Vir Cotto meekly asked. His hands came up near his throat as if in a defensive gesture. It really was unfair; he was browbeaten enough by his boss so he certainly didn't need any additional assaults.

"You know very well what swans I'm talking about. Lennier sent seven of them for this Christmas observance and when I came down to claim them they've suddenly disappeared, shortly after a visit from a certain assistant to the Centauri ambassador."

"Maybe they wandered away" Vir suggested, hoping the explanation would be sufficient, although even if it had been a good excuse the delivery lacked any conviction. "Maybe they developed sentience" he added with a fake laugh "and escaped before they were going to be eaten."

"Vir, they were not going to be eaten. I think all we're supposed to do is enjoy looking at them because Lennier said they supposed to be swimming."

"That explains it!" he shouted. "I knew there had to be a reason!"

"Explains what?"

"Oh, um, well...okay, please don't get mad ambassador." In Vir's experience asking for someone not to get mad never worked, but it didn't hurt to try. "It's just that when I saw these swan creatures they were such beautiful animals I couldn't bear the idea of them being eaten so I freed them."

"Freed them?"

"Freed them. From captivity. I managed to take their cages and get them transported to the gardens without anyone asking any questions."

"So what explains what then?"

"Well, when I released them in the garden they immediately went to the little pools and started floating on the surface. They seemed happy so I left them there. If you think they looked perfect before, you should see them in the water. Do you have any idea what they eat?"

"No Vir, I don't have any idea but I'll tell you what - you can keep them and take care of them by finding out for yourself. I'm tired of birds, and if Lennier sends any more I'll throw _him_ into one of the pools too."


	8. Chapter 8

"Ambassador, we would like to thank you for your hospitality and we'll be glad to stay for as long as you wish" the woman told Delenn. "But I have to admit, I'm a little confused as to why we're here." The eight finalists of the World Milking Championships sat at two tables just inside the Zocolo. Their self-appointed spokesperson, Lactonia Smith was addressing Delenn.

"As am I" Delenn agreed. "My assistant hired you to make a holiday appearance, but didn't give any direction as to what you were to do."

"I could understand if you had some cows hanging around" Smith went on. A few of the team giggled at the inside joke. "And we've even competed on an artificial udder before, but you have none of these things here."

"No, we really don't have any facilities for grazing animals" Delenn explained. "That would take up too much of the inside of the station's surface to be practical. The idea of a cow spinning around the inside of a giant cylinder is just a little strange to me, and I've never even seen a real one. I did some research, so at least I know what one is. I'm sure not everyone here can make the same claim."

"Like that Kosh guy" one of the maids threw in.

"Kosh?" Delenn asked, surprised. "You met Ambassador Kosh?"

"Yeah, he came up to us while we were in an observational room" Smith went on. "He kind of snuck up on us from behind" she said as she recounted the encounter.

 _"The circle of life is a hexagon" a voice said behind us. We turned around and there was this really tall alien in a suit with big shoulders and robes._

 _"Excuse me?" I asked him._

 _"The stars appear small until you try to put one in your pocket."_

 _"Why would I do that?"_

 _"You do not understand...but you will" he said in this weird voice. "Be assured that a walk through the ocean of most souls would scarcely get your feet wet."_

 _"My feet?" I questioned._

 _"Avoid quiet and passive persons, unless you are in need of time for self-reflection; don't let the sands of time become a condiment in your sandwich" he said as he turned and left._

"I've never heard anyone so deep in all my life" Smith sighed.

"If you think that's impressive, wait until you hear him when there's too much xenon in the air" Delenn smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

"We can't perform our dance" the woman in the red dress bemoaned. "Mary injured her ankle on the ramp leaving the ship and the doctor told her to keep off of it for 24 hours. We're supposed to dance tonight."

Inanova seemed skeptical. "Then just perform with eight dancers instead of nine" she told Andie Provst, leader of the dance troupe Lennier had sent to the station.

"It won't work; the numbers won't match when we break into triplets."

"Then get another dancer; the station has some entertainers that are...quite limber, from what little I've seen."

"If we had time to teach someone new, then that would be the answer. But there's no way we can teach someone from scratch and still maintain our standard. We'll just have to pack up our kokoshniks and head home."

"Kokoshniks? Real kokoshniks? I haven't seen any of those in years" the Lt. Commander smiled. "I don't suppose you're going to wear a sarafan with it?"

"Of course. You know about them?"

"Oh yes, I had to wear them when I was forced to learn traditional folk dancing. My papa was so proud; I looked the part better than I danced it."

Andie brightened. "It's nice to talk to someone who has appreciation for our work. You know the Khorovod?"

"Oh yes. I think I just barely managed to keep from flattening anybody's toes when we performed it. My brother did the Barynya, I did the Khorovod." She giggled. "Good thing I became a soldier instead of a dancer."

"Maybe, but tonight _you_ will dance with us! You will be our ninth dancer, because we are doing the Khorovod!"

"No. No no no. No way. Never."

"Yes, you must."

"I can't! I haven't danced it in almost 15 years, I'll be too rusty." Ivanova looked around. "Besides, I can't have people see me dancing. I have a reputation" she continued in a lower voice.

"No, it's settled. You will dance with us. We will costume you so that no one will recognize you, and we have time to practice to get the rust off. It will be good for the station, and good for relations. If you are scheduled to work I can ask your Commander Sinclair for permission."

"NO! Um, that won't be necessary" she said nervously. "The less people that know about it, the better. You can guarantee no one will recognize me?"

"It will be perfect; no one will know but us" Andie assured her.

"Then, I agree on one condition; if anyone finds out I will hunt all of you down and kill you and it will be _no_ ladies dancing."


	10. Chapter 10

"It's a done deal, Ambassador. I'm not pressing any charges, but they have to go back." Security Chief Michael Garibaldi shook his head as he informed Delenn of the latest development.

"I'm sure Lennier didn't mean any harm; his note simply said that he was sending a group of ten lords to do some jumping in the station; I don't understand the significance but Lennier said it was important" the Minbari explained.

"Oh, I'm sure he didn't mean any harm, and these guys haven't done any damage...yet. But I've got to put a stop to it before they, or someone else gets hurt."

"But Mr. Garibaldi, what have they done that could be so terrible? They're just performers."

"It's what they're performing that scares me. The 'Lords of Leaping Stunt Players' may be good at what they do, but so am I. It's one thing to jump through hoops of fire and human pyramids. But when you start high-diving off the tallest buildings, down empty lift shafts and then from the support towers for the core shuttle, it's a bigger risk than I'm willing to let them make. All they need to do is pancake on the ground, or worse yet land on somebody and we've got trouble. Why can't these guys just enjoy a play, maybe a walk in the garden or something? If man was supposed to jump that far he wouldn't have invented a pilot's seat."

"Maybe if you just limited them to low stunts..."

"And just who is going to watch them all the time? I know these thrill seeker types; you turn your back and it's off for the next adrenaline rush. We even stopped them before they did a jump out of the shuttle itself. I had some people standing by with jetpacks but there was no guarantee we could have scooped them up before they impacted. I'm sorry, but they have to go. Look, I like Lennier but he should have checked with someone first. Maybe you can have trained dogs next time or something, okay?"

"I'm getting tired of this holiday, how do you people ever manage it every year?" Delenn asked.

"What holiday?"


	11. Chapter 11

Talia slowly awoke and got up to get a drink of water. As she filled the glass she hummed a tune and then stopped when she became aware of what she was doing. It was the same tune she had in her head when she went to bed. It wasn't a horrible tune, but she didn't know the song and it seemed only certain parts kept repeating themselves in her head, unconnected.

She tried several mental exercises she had learned in the Psi Corp to clear her mind. It would work for a short time, but if she relaxed her guard the snippets of song returned as they crept back into her consciousness.

She tried replacing it with a modern tune she had just heard a week before. That didn't help either as it morphed back into the previous music. Giving up after seeing it was only one more hour before her alarm went off, she went about preparing for the day and the early meeting she had.

After leaving her apartment, she walked down a corridor and entered the lift; just as the doors were closing she heard a passing resident humming the same tune.

"Was it the same tune?" she asked herself. "It couldn't be."

The doors opened, but before she could step out Garibaldi stood aside from where he had been waiting to enter. He seemed to have a special knack for doing that. "Good morning Talia."

"Good morning Mr. Garibaldi" she acknowledged briefly as she moved past. She heard the doors close between them as she walked away, shutting out the security man's beginning whistle of what was now becoming a familiar tune. She almost stumbled as she walked, trying to push it out of her head; she didn't need that stuck in her head now.

She entered the conference room to find Delenn present and seated. "Good morning. Lennier hasn't made it back to the station yet, so it will be just us two. Have a seat while I organize these papers." Talia sat while the ambassador examined and reordered a few sheets. She distractedly hummed _that_ tune. Talia let out a little shriek and bolted up out of her chair.

"Miss Winters, what's wrong?" Delenn asked with great concern after stopping mid-song.

"I'm sorry, I just...I...oh, WHAT IS THAT SONG YOU'RE HUMMING!"

"Song? What song are you...oh...was I humming? I'm terribly sorry, I didn't know some people found it offensive. I'll stop immediately."

"I didn't find it offensive, but I have to know what it is please!" Talia sat down again, but she was almost trembling. "I've never heard it before, but little bits of it have been in my head since yesterday and I can't get them out! It's more than just distracting, it's...crazy making, that's what it is."

"I'm sorry, it's my fault. I had Lennier initiate some holiday celebrations based on Earth customs, and part of the ritual apparently involves eleven musicians playing some type of instrument called a pipebag. So Lennier arranged for these musicians to give a performance and they performed several songs; I believe the one I was humming was named after a King called Wenceslas."

"Can you play a recording of it now? Please?"

"Let me see" she said as she pulled up a digital pad. "Here it is, from the concert yesterday." Bagpipe music swelled from the speaker and a rendition of "Good King Wenceslas" filled the room. Talia listened intently, the worry melting from her face as the song progressed. When it ended Delenn shut off the player. "Did that help?"

"Immensely. I kept getting little bits of it stuck in my head; I must have picked it up from people's thoughts as they broadcast it accidentally. Then when I heard several people humming or whistling it I started to become a little unglued. Now I've got the whole song together I can end it mentally in my head and get back to clear thinking."

"Catchy, isn't it? Delenn grinned.


	12. Chapter 12

Lennier opened the newly-delivered note while preparing for his trip back to Babylon 5 and read it to himself.

 _Mr. Lennier:_

 _Understand I say the following with all due respect for the Minbari people and the extraordinary efforts they make to strengthen ties with Earth and its allies while we work for a greater understanding in this neutral ground that is Babylon 5._

 _Knock if off._

 _I have the greatest admiration for Ambassador Delenn, and I have seen that you work extremely closely as a capable and adept assistant. But however well-meant your choice for bringing greater understanding between all of the station's citizens was, it was ill-conceived. Perhaps if the execution of your plan had been different things might have worked out for the better; this was not the case._ _I need not remind you of our various quarantine laws regarding animals and plants on the station, a system which you circumnavigated with diplomatic ease. Thanks to your efforts I've enjoyed dealing with the following headaches:_

 _Bark beetles were found in a few hedges inside the gardens, traced to a newly-placed tree._

 _I've got the Narns giving me wild tales of slavery of non-sentient species and sonic weapons,_

 _I had traffic backed up for hours because of a ship that just parked in the shipping lane and refused to respond beyond some clucking._

 _Delenn wore a mysterious glove on her right hand that she refused to explain, to the point of almost fleeing to avoid any question about it._

 _Londo is recovering from some allergic reaction to eating an egg._

 _The waters of one of the gardens are now fouled because the pumps couldn't handle some 'goose leavings' that suddenly appeared._

 _Ambassador Kosh...well, he may or may not have been affected, it's hard to tell._

 _Lt. Ivanova has been acting paranoid for days, and has hardly been seen outside of her work shift._

 _We've had to dissuade some people from the start of a new fad of jumping from high places before someone got hurt; even though I like to give people their freedom as much as possible, there are limits._

 _Your pipers set up a cerebral redundagram in Miss Winter's head that almost caused her to go crazy._

 _And lastly, those dozen drummers you sent to us decided to have a little marching parade around the station to the beat of their own cadence. At least they did until they got to Brown sector, where they proceeded to get into a major fight with some people who apparently didn't take music appreciation in school, but could appreciate a drum as a blunt instrument._

 _In the spirit of truth, culture and fairness I will allow you back on the station. In honor of justice, public relations and civil order I am confining you to your quarters for two weeks until things calm down again, at least as much as they do around here. Maybe you can use the time to research the holiday more thoroughly for a future occasion.  
_

 _Yours in peace and authority, Commander Sinclair_

Below the note was a handwritten addition:

 _I'm sure I can get it reduced to one week - Delenn_

* * *

 **A/N: This was the original end of the story, but while discussing an earlier chapter with a friend something was mentioned that kicked around in my head and became an idea for bringing in another character; guess there will be one more gift under the tree tomorrow! Hang on for a bonus day, the 13th day of Christmas...  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Six months later...**

"Mr. Lennier, however did you come up with this?" Captain John Sheridan asked, flabbergasted at what he was viewing.

"It wasn't easy. Before your arrival on the station I was...requested to stay in my quarters for a week after a somewhat less than successful attempt to celebrate your Earth holiday of Christmas. I was determined to not fail in any future attempts, so I spent a great deal of time researching the holiday. It would seem that most of the planet experiences the season of winter during the holiday."

"Of course, at least for those of us who lived in the Northern Hemisphere."

"Exactly, and I researched some of the activities during the season. I came across many references to various athletic endeavors on frozen water..."

"Mr. Lennier, I know about ice and snow."

"My apologies, of course you do. But we don't have seasons in the station, so I researched how to recreate the conditions sufficiently to host one such activity for Christmas this year. This was the result" he said was he gestured at the surroundings, their breaths creating clouds in front of them.

The entire floor of the hallway they were in was covered in ice. Ahead and behind the floor curved up out of sight as it followed the circumference of the station, creating what would have been a white ring if it could have been viewed through walls, ceilings and floors. A central path veered left and right as it followed the floor around the frosty ring. Sitting in the path near them was a small open vehicle.

"This is an unpowered vehicle called a 'bobsled', which..."

"...which people rode in while usually going down a hill" Sheridan continued. "They still have them, but I've never been in one before. Where did you find it?" he asked as he walked over and stroked its smooth surface.

"I didn't; I fabricated one based on some videos I found. The steering and brakes are accurate replicas, which mean they are not as efficient as they should be for safety."

"But how does it move? The floor is curved, yes, but the centrifugal force keeps us here. Did you put an engine in the bobsled?"

"I considered it, but the vehicle traditionally has no power; I made use of an external source. The frame the central station spins within is quite massive and the magnetic levitation drivers provided an excellent opportunity. This hallway is over just such a driver; I've mounted a specially designed electromagnet in the floor of the bobsled. When I activate the magnet it will be attracted to the drive as the point in the hallway comes within the vicinity of the drive. As a result..."

"...although the bobsled stays fixed in place relative to the external magnetic drive, the hallway moves beneath it as it continues to rotate. Perpetual motion and basically an endless downhill run."

"Essentially correct. If I cut power to the electromagnet the bobsled will coast to a stop from our viewpoint, but in fact will be speeding up to match the rotational velocity the rest of the hallway is moving at. It all depends on how you look at it" Lennier finished.

"I want to look at it from inside. Did you fabricate a helmet?" Sheridan asked.

"It is sitting on the floorboard in the front of the vehicle. I will not require one" he said, bowing slightly. Sheridan donned a helmet and together they squeezed into the bobsled, the captain in front and Lannier behind near the control panel. With no warning he hit the power button; the bobsled sat for a few seconds and then started to drift backward slowly.

Sheridan was just about to ask what had gone wrong when the bobsled suddenly lurched forward, having aligned with the external levitation driver. The brave captain immediately had his hands full as the craft yawed left and right as it seemed to rocket down a track. Several times they went into a banked turn and barely straightened out again before encountering another further along. After a few rotations Sheridan recognized a doorway again and understood they were looping repeatedly. He took to testing the full limits of the controls as he experimented with different trajectories through the turns, letting out a "Wahoo!" at least once. He finally signaled Lennier and with the power cut they slowed to a halt, with Sheridan applying the final braking to stop them where they had started.

A little shaky but grinning like the Cheshire cat, the captain slipped and slid his way back out of the icy area. "What do you plan to do with the ice when you're done?"

"It is a variant of what you call dry ice. When I adjust the temperature on the climate controls, it will sublimate into a gas and vent out of the area. I am pleased the test run was successful. Do you think it is an appropriate Christmas activity when the time comes?"

"Mr. Lennier, I do indeed. Do you think you can design some sort of adaptable helmet for the Centauri and Narn? I've got to get Londo and G'Kar in that thing together."

The End

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, NOW it's the end of the story. Some people have written song parodies of "12 Days" for their fandom but I wanted to take a short look at it from the angle of the impact of such gifts on the core characters. Merry Christmas, and I hope somebody like it!**


End file.
